The Assassin's Brother
by Silverleaf15
Summary: In which Aedion meets Aelin. A oneshot.


**Hai! **

**It's been quite a long time, but I'm back. This time armed with a fanfic I've been writing and editing for the past few months ever since I've finished the ARC of Heir of Fire. Commencing in fangirling squeals guys. This book is everything you've been waiting for. Since it comes out today, I might as well post The Assassin's Brother up today.**

**This fanfic is based after Heir of Fire, but with the timing of everything, in which you will not understand until after you finish HoF, a few main characters that should not be there are back, namely Dorian and Rowan. This contains MAJOR spoilers so if you have not read the third book, please, please, please do not read because I rather not be the cause of you readers screaming at me for ruining the book for them. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Do not read further into this author's note unless you plan to be covered in spoilers.**

**This is the scene where Aedion finally meets Aelin for the first time in a decade. I am not ashamed to admit that I actually cried while I was writing this because AEDION and AELIN. Oh my gosh I ship these two so hard, just not as lovers because ROWAN x AELIN forever! I hated that during the course of the book they never meet though I'm sure they really wanted to. So this fanfic is about the two cousins finding their way back to each other. **

**Sorry for this long prescript. I'll shut up now.**

...

They had been traveling in the Oakwald for days. Aedion had been on edge ever since they had passed the Ferian Gap. There had been something in the air that sent his senses on instant alert. A reek akin to rotten meat and booming flap of wings accompanied with unearthly screeching and roars. The captain had wished to investigate, but changed his mind as soon as Aedion gave him a narrow-eyed glare. As his queen had requested, they had given the Ferian Gap a wide berth. Aedion was grateful for it, but his anticipation and simmering exasperation at their slow pace had built up a sort of intensity that even sparring could not tame. Aedion hated that he had to hold back during their evening mock duels. He wanted... no, _needed_ to pummel something, someone, and if the closest punching bag were Ren and the captain, so it be.

Aedion glanced over at Ren, who was scowling at the ground and nursing a bruised jaw. Ren was not one used to losing, but again, Aedion was the Northern Wolf, Adarlan's Whore. What exactly did he expect? He eyed their surroundings warily. Always alert, always attentive. It _was_ truly beautiful, he concluded. The leaves dangled like jewels and the lush understory barely rustled under their footsteps. A silver tailed hawk regarded them haughtily from his perch on a nearby branch. The Oakwald was his terrain, his queen's. Back when the world was whole, back when the world had not gone to ashes, Aelin used to come here with Rhoe. Used to come to hunt the stags and... well, it didn't matter now.

"You look like you're about to face the gallows and not about to see your beloved lost queen," Ren said quietly.

"Our lost queen," Aedion corrected with a growl. He kept his breathing even and gaze straight ahead. Ren stumbled over a root and Aedion steadied him with a long-suffering sigh. Even with his size, all those muscles and weapons, Aedion effortlessly weaved around trees and bushes with his Fae agility, grace and endurance. The same could not be said of the Lord of Allsbrook and the captain. They cursed and staggered their way through the forest like drunkards, scaring away the prey and the Little Folk, probably attracting unwanted attention from the creatures that thrived in the dark glens and the lost, hidden places.

"Our lost queen," Ren agreed after he had regained his footing. Aedion spared a quick glance back at the captain, who followed them diligently. "I wish you would tell me about her," the young lord said irately. "I am meeting her anyway."

"Exactly," Aedion said flatly, "We are already getting close. You will see her then."

But Ren persisted. "Give me one good reason why I can't know anything about her, General. One good reason, then I'll shut my mouth."

"Because I said so that's why," Aedion snapped. Ren's lip curled and his mouth opened as if to say that it was a damn dreadful reason, but the captain interrupted, the first words he'd spoken this morning.

"You've met her," Chaol said. Aedion swung to give him a sharp look. He just shrugged. "He'll find out soon enough."

"Aelin should tell him herself," the general rumbled.

The captain shook his head. "The last time they met, Ren attacked her. Poorly, I might add. Not that it wasn't Cel-," Aedion growled a warning and the captain winced and paused. "Not that it wasn't Aelin's fault. She provoked him first."

Ren's eyes narrowed. "You mean to say-"

"We're here," Aedion interrupted. He could hear the a bubbling brook, exactly where Aelin said she would be. They crept out to the bush and peered out cautiously. Aedion's heart stopped at the two figures beside the creek. Black haired, blue eyed and handsome, Dorian Havaillard sat with his trousers rolled up to the knee, dangling his bare feet in the water. What was he doing here? Wasn't he collared? A slighter figure beside him was cloaked in forest green, a hood covering her features. Blonde hair spilt from the hood, shining gold and bronze in the bright afternoon light. A golden hound wagged his tail, prancing in circles around them. The prince gestured dramatically and the girl laughed. Aedion hadn't heard that lilting, beautiful sound in ten years. He held up a hand to gesture them forward, but the captain was already striding toward the royal couple.

Dorian was on his feet in an instant, his hand jumping to the nondescript sword at his side. The prince's stance relaxed as soon as he recognized Chaol and his lips twisted into an awkwardly relieved smile. Right, the captain and the prince wasn't on very good terms at the moment. The hound leaped onto the captain with enthusiastic laps of the tongue.

Aelin stood in a fluid, elegant movement and inclined her head coolly toward her lover. Strange, Aedion would have thought- There was something shiny clutched in the lost princess' fist and she extended her hand toward the captain. Aelin dropped an amethyst ring into Chaol's palm and he seemed to sag, but nodded in comprehension. Dorian looked between his two friends with a sympathetic eyes. Sympathetic and knowing. Aedion ground his teeth. How can two of his sworn enemies know his queen better than he knew _her_?

The captain fumbled for his pockets and withdrew the Eye of Elena. He tried to hand it to her, but Aelin shook her head, stepping away. Chaol said something and the princess sighed, taking the Eye. She fastened it around her neck. Aelin gestured and Chaol shrugged, waving a hand at their hiding spot. Aedion tensed and backed away. She was asking for them. Ren snorted and shoved his shoulder lightly, still beside him. _It's time_, his eyes seemed to say.

Aelin emitted a sharp two note whistle, and the silver tailed hawk he had spotted earlier swooped out, flying in lazy circles around Aedion and Ren before heading toward the source of the noise. The hawk landed effortlessly on Aelin's outstretched arm in a practiced motion. She tucked the bird close to her chest and combed a gentle hand through his feathers. The hawk seemed to snuggle into her ministrations, but kept a wary eye on the prince and the captain. Fascinated, Dorian moved the touch the mighty bird, but it snapped its beak as if to chomp on his fingers. Cursing, the prince whipped his hand away to the amusement of the captain.

"Rowan doesn't like anyone," Aelin said, as Ren and Aedion drew nearer. She dropped her hand and the hawk, Rowan, hopped to take a place on her shoulder. His wings rustled faintly as Aedion and Ren approached, almost threateningly, but he was just a bird. Aedion would surely be able to protect himself if the creature decided to dive-bomb his head on whim. Aedion made to kneel, and at his side, Ren made to do the same, but Aelin hurried to take his hands. He froze.

Oh gods, her _hands_. Warm, small, and feminine, they clasped his shaking hands with infinite gentleness. Aedion's hands, peppered with scars and rough with calluses nearly eclipsed hers, but his queen's hands... They were flecked with scars, each telling a story, a story he had not been part of because he had failed. Failed to protect her. He rubbed his thumb across her palm absently, mapping the ridges and bends, the worn, hardened skin. The hands of a warrior. A fighter.

He didn't realize he was crying until Aelin disengaged their fingers. The cool spring air rushed in the spot her hands had vacated and Aedion started as she touched his cheek, caressing the skin there, tanned from his years in the snow topped Staghorns. She sniffled slightly, choked on a sob as she wiped away his tears. "Aedion," she whispered. "Aedion. Cousin." He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. That name, spoken on those lips. Ten years. Ten years he had waited without hope. She was here. His queen was here, right in front of him. Touching him.

"Aelin," he breathed. "Aelin." Aedion crushed her to his chest, dislodging the hawk who gave a disgruntled squawk. He ignored it, wrapping his arms around her slender frame. Her hands went around his neck and Aedion breathed her in. That familiar yet strange scent. She was a woman now. Aedion reached for her hood, then hesitated. "Do- do you mind," he took a deep breath, "Your Majesty?" His cousin shook her head against his chest and Aedion pulled the hood down. Gold hair tumbled down, the shade so similar to his own. It was shorter than he had pictured, but just as soft and silky as he remembered. They stepped away, just enough to get a good look at the other.

"Gods, you're huge," she muttered, giving him a quick onceover. "What have the armies been feeding you?" Aedion choked back a laugh and regarded her. He was staring but- Gods, she was... beautiful. Aelin was flushed with colour, her- their heirloom eyes glittering, alight with wonder as she stared right back at him. His eyes traveled down the length of her. Aelin only came to his shoulder. Her clothes were fitted and well-made, evidence that her years as Adarlan's Assassin had treated her well. An ancient looking gold sword peeked out from under her cloak and a flash of silver alerted Aedion to more weapons hidden along her body. She was a walking armory.

"You!" Ren snarled. Aedion turned to frown at him, but Lord Allsbrook was staring past him to Aelin.

"Me," Aelin said amused. She sauntered forward, brushing past Aedion to peer at the young lord. "Huh, I thought you would be older."

Ren was thunderstruck. "You? You are Princess Aelin?"

"And you are the Lord of Allsbrook," the princess replied.

"But," Ren glanced at the captain and Aedion for help, "she's the king's assassin!" he accused. Aelin shrugged slightly and watched Ren with raised brows. "And you were an ally of Archer Finn."

"I told you. You have met Aelin," Chaol said. Dorian frowned.

"When was this?"

"We almost killed her," Ren stated flatly. Aelin's brows rose higher and the captain snorted.

"I believe it was the other way around," Aelin drawled examining her nails, "but whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess." She gave Ren a slow, cool smirk. He growled and stepped forward, a hand going to the twin swords strapped on his back. Aedion made to move, but to his surprise, it was the hawk who made the first move. Rowan spread his wings and dove, his claws slashing toward Ren's face. The young lord's eyes widened and he ducked behind Aedion.

The hawk pulled short of raking its nails across Aedion's face but shrieked loudly. From behind him, Ren winced. "Rowan," Aelin said admonishingly. "Play nicely." Rowan swung around, wings flapping furiously to keep himself aloft. His beady eyes narrowed. Aelin's eyes narrowed as well, accentuating the blue and gold. Rowan clicked his beak and they looked for all the world as if they were carrying on a voiceless conversation. "Rowan," the princess warned again, irritation and affection warring in her tone. She held out a hand and the hawk obeyed, swooping onto her shoulder.

"He is very obedient," Dorian said warily. Rowan squawked derisively. "And protective of you," he added. Aelin hesitated, looking to Aedion.

"We are bonded," she said quietly. Aedion tried to keep his shock and resentment from showing and tried to smile. Of course she would have bonded with others. It had been ten years. He was glad, he had to be glad for her. Glad that she had not been alone.

"Rowan is Fae then," he said, his voice sounding eons away. Ren stood beside him and Aedion could feel his questions.

"Were you not bonded with Aedion?" Ren asked curiously, his tone civilly interested for once.

Aelin bit her lip, still looking at him worriedly. "I am. It is possible to bond with more than one male. Rowan has the ability to take the shape of a hawk... It is far less conspicuous than his Fae form."

"But he will be stuck in that form here, wouldn't he?" Chaol asked. "The towers-" He cut himself off, inhaling sharply.

Aedion's breath caught. Her control... Aelin stood fast, a crown of wildfire gracing her brow. She- she looked like a queen. Gone was the cousin he had grown up with, the spoiled, fun-loving little princess. Gone was the wild, broken assassin Chaol had described months ago. This... Gods, this was pure strength and power. The kind of deadly magic portrayed in myths and legends. Aelin smiled faintly. A queen's smile. "There are certainly ways of getting around that."

Dorian hissed in surprise. "How-"

Aelin shook her head. "It doesn't matter how. I cannot tell you. Your positions as my friends and confidents will be used against me. Just know that the king has two Wyrdkeys and I must keep the location of the third one from him."

Ren started. "You have the third one?"

The queen smiled grimly. "I told you already. I cannot tell you. I am bound to stay silent. But I can tell you this. If the king obtains the third Wyrdkey, there will be nothing in this world or any other world that could destroy him." Aelin waved a hand in the vague direction of Rifthold. "The past ten years," her voice dropped. "All the bloodshed and carnage will be nothing compared to what will come. He will become a god. An immortal, little rebel. And whatever you do is only going to get you killed."

Dorian's eyes were wide, with fright or awe, Aedion didn't know. Didn't want to know. How can the prince be one of Aelin's allies? "When I was collared, you said that one of the Valg princes possessed my body. That the Wyrdstone made it possible for the monsters to enter and control it. Do the keys give my father the power to bring these things from other worlds? My father keeps these creatures as his pets? His minions?"

"You father is a bloody fool and madman if he thinks he can control the Valg," she said flatly. "They feed on one's fears and nightmares. They revel in pain and torment. I know-" her breath caught, "I know more than anyone." Aelin paled and clenched her fists. "I was forced face them in Wendlyn."

"You faced the Valg alone and lived?" Ren demanded. "Even in the legends-"

"The legends had Brannon on their side," Aelin snapped and shuddered. "During the duel for the title of Champion..." She closed her eyes. "That thing said-" Aelin opened her eyes. "All of you were brought back," she whispered, "all the players in the unfinished game. That game- that game that began at the beginning of time between the creatures of darkness and light. The Valg need hosts with magic in their blood. In Wendlyn, the Valg killed demi-Fae in order to try create more of themselves." Aelin swallowed.

"What happened in Wendlyn, Celaena?" Chaol asked gently. Aedion stepped closer, concern and fear swirling in his gut.

"Imagine being forced through your worst memories. Seeing things no one should ever see," Aelin was numb, shaking. Aedion caught one of her hands, covered it with his own. "Reliving the deaths of your parents, your friends, over and over. Your greatest fears and all-consuming guilt. They feed on you until you are a husk, skin and bones." The hawk nestled into the hollow of her neck, as if to give her bodily comfort. Aelin stroked him absently, her eyes bright.

"How are you alive?" Ren ground out, his eyes haunted with horrors untold. The years that he had lived without a home, without a title, consorting with vagrants and misfits. They had all been though such trials. It had shaped their lives, hardened them. As a sword is tempered with fire, they were steeled through oppression.

"It fed on me two times," she said distantly, her gaze faraway. "The first time I was not prepared. It ambushed me. I-" Aelin chewed on her lip. "I barely got away. In a cursed second encounter, the Valg prince placed me within its thrall, but thanks to Rowan, we both escaped."

"How did you escape it?" Dorian challenged. "How did you take the collar off of me? There was no visible keyhole. No seal."

"The Valg princes attempt to disorient their prey," the queen said. "It is how they hunt. Once you meet their eyes, it is as if a blanket is thrown over you and the only thing you are aware of is yourself and the creature. You can't see, but you can feel. You will not know what is real and what is not. They show you things in the darkness... your own nightmares made flesh. That's what makes them so lethal. In the darkness, the Valg are not your adversaries. In the deadly black, you will be your own enemy and your horrors will be your downfall. Once they have you in their grip, you might as well hope for death."

She trailed off and fell silent. "But there is one way, you can get away if your will to live is strong enough. If you can convince yourself that the visions they reveal to you are by-products of your mind. If you can anchor yourself in the real world by whatever method necessary, you might be able to get away." Aelin glanced at the hawk. "Rowan and I found that physical pain is the most effective. If you are able to cut yourself, bite yourself, claw yourself... The pain acts as a tether to reality. It is also how Rowan rescued me from the Valg during our second run-in; he bit me."

"He bit you," Chaol echoed.

Aelin nodded. "And as for the second time I was fed on, it was during the battle in the Cambrian Mountains. The one you all heard about. There were four of them that time."

"How did you even survive?" Ren whispered.

The queen smiled slightly. "How does one fight darkness?"

The people... They said Aelin fought Narrok's men. Fire, the power the likes of which the world has not seen since Brannon himself."Your fire," Aedion said suddenly. Everything was starting to click together. "You fought their darkness with your light." His queen rewarded him with a grin.

"Exactly."

"Is that what you did then? You melted the collar off of me?" Dorian demanded.

Aelin frowned. "No, I kis-" She stopped abruptly, deliberately not looking at Chaol. The captain tensed.

She sighed. "I kissed you. It was the only way I could think of to get my fire into you without burning you into a charred smear on the carpets."

Ren coughed pointedly. "I can think of another way."

"No!" Dorian and Chaol shouted at the same time. Ren's eyebrows shot up and he raised both hands in a placating gesture. Dorian- Gods, was he blushing? The prince? He had really changed then.

Aelin's eyebrow rose slowly. "Yes," she deadpanned. "The Valg possessing Dorian's body would have clearly paused in its nefarious plans long enough for me to sleep with him." She gave Ren a disgusted look. "There was no other way. If I had not used my magic, if it had been any other person who had done it, you would be dead. Maeve-"

"The Fae queen?" Ren inquired, brows still raised.

"The dark queen," Aedion growled.

"Maeve," Aelin said, interrupting, "told me that without magic, the only way to get the collar off was to cut off your head altogether." She looked at the Adarlan prince pleadingly. "I couldn't do it."

"I'm glad, really," Dorian reassured her and touched her arm. Aelin smiled weakly and nodded. Was there something between them? Chaol certainly thought there was, with that burning jealousy darkening his face.

"Well," she said brightly, forcing the dark mood to lift, "shall we go? I think we all need time to rest." Aelin started away from the river, tugging Aedion with her and flitted into the forest. He marveled at her lethal grace and surety so different from the cousin he used to know. So different from the naive, precocious princess who used to kick him for getting crumbs on her dresses or come to his room in the dark of night to escape nightmares.

Dorian strode confidently after them and the others followed. Rowan swooped between the trees ahead of them, never straying too far from his queen. Aelin feet stalled and she turned around. "Do you mind showing them to the caves, Dorian? I would like to talk to my cousin alone." _In trouble_, Ren mouthed at him wickedly. She caught it and smiled sweetly at the young lord. _You're next_, she mouthed back. He glared at her and Aedion smothered his rising grin.

"Of course," the prince replied. Rowan landed on a nearby branch and watched. And once Aedion knew they were out of earshot he turned to her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What do you have to be sorry about?" she asked incredulously. "It is I who failed you. I should have tried to contact you. How I ended up..." she trailed off. "You must have been so disappointed. That princess... I'm not her anymore. I don't even know if I can be her."

"I promised I would protect you," he said fiercely. Aedion swallowed. "You don't know what that was like. You were dead, or I thought you were dead. Ten long years, Aelin. I swore I would protect you and I failed in my duty. Your safety should have been my first priority. Nothing afterwards was your fault. It was mine. I should have been with you."

"You were a child," Aelin said gently. "You could not have come all the way to our country estate. We were forty miles away, Aedion. Forty. Even with your Fae endurance, you could not have come. Even the horses would have tired before you. What were you going to do? Steal an Asterion stallion?"

"I should have," Aedion growled, cursing himself for not thinking of it.

"We were already dead," the queen said bluntly. The general flinched and Aelin placed a hand on his tensed shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done. And I think that in a way those ten years have been good for me. I learnt to protect myself with both weapons and magic, to use it the way my parents had forbade me to. I traveled and experienced the world. Made friends and enemies alike. Enemies more than friends," she said with a slight wince, "but allies nonetheless. I found myself as well, Aedion. I was free."

"I-" he began, then took a deep breath. "I've done terrible, terrible things, Aelin. Things that you will not forgive me for." All the war camps, the battlefields, each of those bright innocent lives. Lost.

"And so have I. Some of the things I've done, the people I have killed. Each a stain on my soul," she fell silent, but gave him a dark, faltering grin. "I killed my first man at the age of nine, Aedion. I doubt you can beat that."

Aedion shoved the paralyzing shock and sickening feeling deep down. Nine. She was nine. He had just started training with Quinn and his men at nine. He must not have masked his appall fast enough because Aelin shrugged sadly. Either that or she just knew him enough to tell even after all these years. He was betting on the latter. Aelin had always known him best. "Adarlan makes monsters out of all of us."

"You are not a monster," he snapped. What he had failed to protect...

"I am Adarlan's Assassin," she replied.

"And I am Adarlan's Whore," he shot back.

"You are not anymore," she said and flipped back her cloak. Aedion's eyes immediately went to the weapons strapped to her hips. There was that unfamiliar gold sword he had glimpsed earlier, more than a few wickedly sharp daggers and he wagered there were more weapons concealed along her body. But he ignored those for the second sword laced to her right. The simple horned sword, flecked with scratches and dents, each a story of long-dead kings and great wars. The weapon he knew like the back of his hand. The Sword of Orynth. He took a step forward, mouth opening. "I took it," Aelin said simply. "I could not leave it with the king, not when Dorian told me it was yours."

"It was not mine," Aedion whispered, fingering the cool hilt. "I took it so that I could give it to you when I finally joined you in the Afterworld."

"Oh, Aedion," Aelin sighed. She unbuckled it and they both stared at it for a while. She handed it to him. "Here, take it."

Aedion started back. "No," he said flatly. "It is yours. By right it is yours."

Her face shifted. "I do not need my father's sword, Aedion." She patted her side where the gold sword dangled. The giant ruby on the hilt winked in the light. "I have Goldryn. It is enough." Aedion hissed out a breath.

"But-"

"Let me tell you a story," she said with infuriatingly calm. "A story of two warriors who were the best of friends, brothers even. Brannon of the Wildfire, beloved of Mala fire-bringer and Athril, lover of Maeve, the Fae queen." Aelin drew Goldryn from its sheath. "This is Athril's sword. It helped me many times in Wendlyn and slew the Valg princes. Rowan gave this to me." She shook her head. "I will not part with it. But I can't carry around two swords." Aelin placed the Sword of Orynth in his hands, and closed his fingers around it. "You will make use of this. I know you will. Be my sword and shield, Aedion," she whispered.

Aedion stared down at the weapon and what it represented. _My sword and shield_... "My father would have wanted you to have this, cousin. I know... You do not have to keep it. But use it. Fight for me."

"It is a heirloom of House Galathynius," he said hoarsely. "I cannot take it."

Aelin laughed quietly. "I have no heir yet, Aedion. And I am not planning on naming one anytime soon." He couldn't suppress his burst of exhilaration. This meant that his queen planned on living for a long, long while. They would survive, they would survive and remake the world together. Aedion bowed his head in deference.

"Your will is mine, my queen," he said smiling. Because it was true. Everything that he was, he would give to her, this child of kings. His will, bound to hers forever. _Be my sword and shield_... Aedion looked at her, truly looked at her and saw himself mirrored in her. The features obviously, the blonde hair and Ashryver eyes, but it went beyond physical attributes. That strength of will and the steadfast passion for their people. Aelin gave him a feral grin.

"A court to change the world," she breathed. And Aedion knew. He slowly dropped to his knees, his gaze on the true queen of Terrasen. And when he reached for her wrist, she did not stop him. Aedion had been ready for this oath for a lifetime. She unsheathed her dagger and brought it to her skin. There was a silvery scar there and he looked back at the hawk, silently thanking him for taking care of Aelin all this time.

He looked back just as the first words of the blood oath were spoken. "Do you, Aedion Ashryver, promise to serve in my court from now until the day you die?"

"I do," he said quietly, but not weakly. "I swear on my life, my honour, my heritage. Everything that I have, everything that I am, I give to you. To whatever end and the world beyond. This I swear." And when Aelin smiled at him, that grin as bright as the sun, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this. He would take whatever the king threw at him. Aedion would build a new court for his queen, one filled with warriors that would overshadow the former. A court filled with the best of the best. A court, unyielding and unforgiving.

Aelin dragged the dagger across her wrist, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. She offered the slit wrist to him. Aedion took it gently and lowered his mouth to her wrist. Three mouthfuls. That was all it will take to bind his soul to hers forever.

The blood welled into his mouth, his throat, staining his lips and teeth a copper red. One swallow and something bright and new unfolded in his dark, shadow-filled heart. Another two swallows and a golden rope unraveled, binding them tighter and tighter. A bond that would never be broken.

She helped him to his feet, simultaneously healing the wound on her wrist. Rowan dove down from his perch on a tree to sit atop Aelin's shoulder. Her hand slid up Aedion's chest to rest over his heart. She met his gaze, heirloom eyes shining. And as if she had reached into the heart of him, she whispered one word, "Brother."

...

**I hope you loved the Assassin's Brother as much as I loved writing it. And if you love it as much as I do please review because it means a lot to have feedback. Thanks!**

**-Silverleaf**


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